


Don't Let Them Get You

by indevan



Series: Bump In the Night - A FE3H Monsters and Supernatural AU series [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: Their town has a lot of superstitions and a lot of rules.  Everyone knows to stay out of the Woods--always stated in a proper noun, even if they didn’t have a specific name to them--at all times, but specifically at night.  There’s curfews and customs and everything that’s been ingrained in Bernadetta since she was a little girl.  She’s always been fascinated with that darkness, though, even if she still holds her breath walking past the cemetery gates or she still spits through her fingers to avoid bad luck
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Bump In the Night - A FE3H Monsters and Supernatural AU series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823602
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Don't Let Them Get You

**Author's Note:**

> i'm starting this AU for fun! i'm planning on writing short, connected vignettes in the same universe in between working on bigger/longer projects :D

Bernadetta has always thought of herself as careful. She’s tiptoed around her father’s wrath and her mother’s indifference to said wrath for nearly every one of her twenty-two years of life. She’s never strayed too far from the path, because she knows where that leads.

Their town has a lot of superstitions and a lot of rules. Everyone knows to stay out of the Woods--always stated in a proper noun, even if they didn’t have a specific name to them--at all times, but specifically at night. There’s curfews and customs and everything that’s been ingrained in Bernadetta since she was a little girl. She’s always been fascinated with that darkness, though, even if she still holds her breath walking past the cemetery gates or she still spits through her fingers to avoid bad luck.

Tonight, though, she had let time get away from her. She’d been in the library. There were so many books there that she couldn’t walk home carrying them all. She had stayed among the stacks for hours, not even realizing the hour until the librarian found her and, surprise lacing her words, told her that they had closed two hours ago. Now she had a bag full of heavy books--ones she hadn’t voraciously devoured hiding in a beanbag-laden nook meant for children--and was walking home dangerously close to curfew.

Bernadetta doesn’t know what lurks in the night, but she has an idea. She’s read enough books about it, after all. Part of her wants to meet a darkly romantic denizen of the night, but another part of her values her survival.

She dashes from streetlight to streetlight, the pools of light being her only illumination as she cuts through town. When she was a child, she and her only friend would play a game called “Don’t Let Them Get You,” where they tried to jump onto the pools of light and avoid the shadows. Touching the shadows meant that They got you. Who “They” were was never really outright stated but her friend would glance into the Woods when he talked about their invisible enemies. Bernadetta hasn’t seen him for a long time, not since her father scared him away. Like he scared away anyone who wanted to get close to her.

Not that it mattered now. She was free from them, from him. She lives with Alois and his family and things were good. Her agoraphobia let her spend evenings in the living room with them or go to the library or book shop. She’s far away from it now. But habits are hard to shake.

This habit, though, a throwback to her game with her friend, maybe isn’t a bad idea. The Woods are to her left, the darkness pulsing like it’s alive. Bernadetta knows that isn’t true. It’s the trees and the shadows, but she doesn’t let her eyes stray there. She concentrates on stretching her gait as far as she can, leaping to the next circle of syruppy orange light. Under this streetlight, a mother flutters helplessly against the plastic cage for the bulb. Bernadetta watches its shadow as she catches her breath. Her shoulders and back ache from the books in her pack, but she can’t stop now. The buses have stopped running. It isn’t late, but they always finish their routes well before curfew. You never know who will get on a stop, after all.

The shadow of the moth flickers and seems to change. It looks wetter, fuller, and growing larger. She casts a glance up to see if the moth moved closer at all but, no. Bernadetta looks back down, blinking after images from her eyes, and it looks as though the shadow has a tendril coming out of it. She lets out a frightened yelp and leaps from the light to the next. The weight on her back shifts and she pitches forward. Bernadetta pinwheels her arms as if the circle of light is a cliff and she’s about to fall off. She manages to correct herself backwards but the weight carries her further and she lands roughly on her backside.

Bernadetta draws her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knees to keep them from shaking. She doesn’t know why she’s so scared. The moth shadow could have been her eyes tricking her. But it’s like her body knows something that her brain doesn’t, because it doesn’t want to move from her crouched up position. She can hear her own breathing and her heart is pounding and she doesn’t know if it’s from this new fear that has settled over her or because she has zero athletic ability and tried to run and jump while wearing a heavy backpack.

“Do you need help?”

The voice is at once stormy and silken. Bernadetta glances up to see a man standing just outside her circle of light. She didn’t hear him come up but, honestly, she hasn’t heard anything but her own heartbeat and panicked breathing. He cuts a tall, imposing figure in all black, his skin pale as a corpse. Pale as moonlight (and isn’t she glad that there isn’t a full moon tonight either).

“W-what makes you think I need help?” she bleats.

He turns his hand out as if to say “Well…” Carefully, on shaky legs, Bernadetta rises.

“If you walk with me, they won’t bother you.”

He says it so matter-of-factly in his posh voice. Bernadetta bites her lip. But if They won’t, what about him? Something about him seems...off. His skin is too pale, his voice too alluring. But she doesn’t have a lot of options. Carefully, she steps from the pool of light to stand next to the man. He’s even taller close up. He has his collar flipped up to hide his long, narrow neck and Bernadetta thinks that it makes him look a bit like Lord Byron. Hair so dark that it nearly bleeds into the night tumbles over one eye.

“I’m Bernadetta,” she says and then curses herself.

_ Stupid, stupid Bernie! You shouldn’t give your name!! That’s like rule number one! _

To her surprise, the man’s thin lips curve up into a slight approximation of a smile. Bernadetta isn’t sure if it makes him scarier or not.

“My name is Hubert.”

Together, they begin to walk. Bernadetta feels a bit better, not being alone. It’s as if the oppressive shadows have retreated. The Woods even seems to pulse less. She steals glances at Hubert’s profile as they walk to try and figure out what kind of power he has. He can keep them at bay, or at least leave her alone. It occurs to her again that trusting him in any way is foolish, but she also isn’t sure what other choice she had. She couldn’t last jumping from light to light on her way to Alois’s house.

They’re walking through the center of town, now, where the shops break off into the residential streets. Some of them, anyway. There are others who live further back, closer to the Woods. They rarely come to town, though. At least as far as Bernadetta has seen. She ventures out more, by herself or with Alois and his family. Sometimes even with friends. Sylvain, who lives in the apartments converted from the historic old hotel, comes around and jollies her into going out for burgers or to the movies. It’s nice. It’s different. She’s still getting used to it.

The two of them pass darkened store fronts, the mannequins leaning out towards them, reaching with their arms. Bernadetta tries not to look at them, knowing she’s scaring herself. They pass the window of the used bookstore where she’s been considering applying for a job. This time, she chances a glance to see if the “help wanted!” sign is still in the window. It is, but that isn’t what gives her pause. In the window, she sees her own reflection, full of night, but there’s no one with her. She turns and confirms that, yes, Hubert is still walking with her. She looks back at the window, but it’s only her.

Alarm bells begin sounding off in her head.

_ Holy shit! Oh nooo! You’ve really done it now, Bernie! _

She tears away from Hubert, her fear jolting her with energy. She launches herself too hastily, though, and Bernadetta feels her backpack sling forward, sending her sprawling onto the pavement. She catches herself on her hands and winces, knowing that she’s undoubtedly scraped up the heels of her hands. She sits back on her haunches and, yes, even in the gloom she can see gravel and specks of blood.

“Why did you run off?”

Hubert sounds more annoyed than anything and she hides her hands behind her back. He sniffs dismissively through his nose.

“Please. That amount of blood does nothing for me.”

He says it so nonchalantly, too. Bernadetta slowly gets back to her feet. She doesn’t move, even as her brain is telling her body to run--run! Is he holding her here? Is this some kind of glamor?

“Vampire!” she squeaks.

Hubert arches a brow. “Yes? And?”

She nearly starts sputtering. She’s heard all about vampires. She’s read about them in fiction and nonfiction books.

“Well…”

“I have no intention of harming you,” Hubert says.

He begins walking again and she finds herself keeping up with him. Maybe it isn’t a glamor.

“You don’t?”

“No. I have particular standards for victims and you do not meet them.”

_ Hey! Should I be insulted? _

Bernadetta doesn’t voice it, but she figures it might not matter. Can vampires read minds?

“Oh. Okay. Good?”

She winces at herself.

“I saw them toying with you so I stepped in. They will not bother you while I am here.”

Hubert doesn’t specify who “they” are. She pictures the tendril curling up out of the moth’s fluttering shadow and shudders. Maybe she doesn’t  _ want _ to know.

“Well--um--thank you. Hubert. Sorry I ran off.”

He shrugs.

“It was no offense. I am used to people running away from me even before I was turned.”

Bernadetta can believe that. He’s so...austere-looking with his high cheekbones and patrician features.

“You remember from before you were turned?” she asks instead.

They take a turn down towards the street where Alois’s house is. The streetlights here look welcome and not at all frightening. The houses have their lights on. She feels her shoulders lower and she had had no idea they were even hunched around her ears until then.

“I would hope so. It was only six months ago.”

Bernadetta putters to a stop. Hubert keeps walking for a few, long-legged strides before turning. His head is cocked in annoyance as if to say, “What now?”

“Six months?!” she exclaims.

Her voice echoes through the street.

“Yes?”

“B-but, you seem so...vampire-y!”

Hubert frowns at her.

“I’m a goth.”

_ Ah. _

She doesn’t think it would benefit him in any way to lie to her. Once again, they resume walking.

“I wish you would stop...stopping,” Hubert says. “I have no idea where we’re going.”

“Oh. Um. It’s close. This is the right street.” Bernadetta points. “It’s a few houses down.”

Hubert nods. The rest of the walk is uneventful. At the bottom of the walk, she turns to him.

“Thank you,” she says. “For saving me and, um, walking me back.”

He shrugs. “I would rather not see them claim an innocent.”

“R-right. Um. See you around! Or not! It’s cool either way. Bye!”

Before she can put her foot in her mouth any further, Bernadetta turns and runs for the front door. She uses her key to let her in. She turns once more and gives Hubert a wave. It may be a trick of the darkness, but she thinks she might see him smile.

Inside, she greets everyone in the living room and says she’s going up to her room. She thinks maybe she’ll join them later. Living in a healthy environment is still new to her. First things first, though, she had to finally drop her load of books.

Bernadetta works her shoulders up and down to work through the soreness. Tonight has been...strange. She was menaced by an unknown force and rescued by a vampire. She thinks the quickly spoken thanks isn’t nearly enough. Bernadetta walks to her box of sewing supplies and looks for her embroidery floss and needles. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever see Hubert again but, if she does, she wants to give him something to show her gratitude.

If nothing else, making him a present will distract her from the black mass of shadows pressing against her window outside.


End file.
